


Long Shadows

by thankyouturtle



Category: Batman (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: au_bingo, F/M, Police, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouturtle/pseuds/thankyouturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babs is a hard-working cop with needs and - for the right price - Dick is just the man to fulfill them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Shadows

It had been Dinah who had first suggested she come to this place. "You," Dinah announced one night, "need to get laid." Babs had rolled her eyes over her espresso.

"I'm not seeing anyone, in case you hadn't noticed."

"You don't need to be _seeing_ someone to have sex." Dinah took a sip of her own drink before continuing, in a lower voice. "Or at least, you could start seeing someone _to_ have sex..."

Babs had been sceptical at first. Cops and prostitutes were a bad cliché. And for all Dinah's promises of excellence and discreetness, Babs knew that if even the slightest hint of a desk sergeant _partaking_ got out, that was her reputation done for. But there were only so many lonely days and bad dates (and Dinah's ever-gentle hinting) that she could take. She'd given in, eventually. She wasn't sure, yet, that she didn't regret it - but there were nights when her own hands just weren't enough to get the job done. Those nights, she came here.

Babs had never found the right word to describe this place. Sure, there were plenty of words _for_ it - bordello, brothel, whorehouse - but none of them conjured up the right picture. This place wasn't dirty, or shameful; when you left you didn't carry the reek of despair and desperation with you. From the street, it could have been a therapist's office. There was even a receptionist at the front desk. The current one was a pretty Asian girl whose name-tag said 'Steph'. It almost definitely wasn't her real name, but then, Amanda Draper wasn't Babs'.

"Welcome back, Ms Draper," the receptionist said. "He's ready for you - you can go on through."

The corridor wasn't exactly wide, but it was wide enough for Babs to get through if no one tried to pass her. The room she wanted was the third on the right; the same one she was always in. It was surprisingly pretty, for what was essentially den of sin; but then, according to Dinah, the other rooms were set up for clients with more - particular needs. Dinah had, of course, described them in great detail, but Babs wasn't really one for experimentation these days.

"Amanda! You're looking as beautiful as usual." Dick's voice was warm, and he was dressed in a deep blue bath robe. It was cut above the knee, and - as usual - Babs thought that he possibly had the best calves of any man she'd ever met. "It's been a while since you were last here - I thought perhaps you'd got bored with me."

Babs favoured him with a smile. "Are you trying to charm me into sleeping with you?" she teased. There was a railing on one side of the bed; it appeared shortly after her first visit. She didn't kid herself that it was installed just for her. She couldn't be the only woman in a wheelchair who needed to get laid now and then. It was probably a market niche, all by itself. Dick waited until she was settled comfortably on the bed before manoeuvring the empty chair out of the way. It was about the only time she ever let anyone touch it, Babs realised, and that thought amused her - that touching him touching her chair was almost as intimate an act as him touching _her_.

It had taken a few tries before they'd both worked out how to manage the actual sex. Not that she'd ever left unsatisfied - Dick's professional pride would never have allowed that. But it had been a little while before she'd realised - and she'd been able to tell him - that she _wanted_ him to touch her legs. At first she'd thought her pleasure in watching him slide his hands - from her feet, up under her calves, over her knees, pushing her thighs apart and move his face in close to her pussy - had been some kind of morbid fascination. But it was more than that - a sort of voyeurism, seeing this gorgeous man touch the limbs that were no longer quite hers. It was anticipation - waiting for that moment, just before he gripped her hips, when she could once again feel him touching her.

And if she were being honest - completely honest with herself - it was the fact that he was willing to do it. Well, he'd do whatever she wanted, that was how this worked. But there was never any disgust, or pity, or even just detached interest in his face; instead, he seemed to be entirely concentrated in making sure she was having the best time he could possibly provide. And that meant that she _did_.

Sometimes, afterwards, on her way back to her apartment, she'd let herself wonder about him. How'd he get here? He didn't have a police record, but then he would hardly be working under his real name. His back had scars - not a jagged, ugly bullet wounds like her, but older, softer lines that could have been mistaken for stretch marks if she didn't have a police officer's practiced eyes, and hands. But there was nothing to suggest he was on drugs, no tell-tale bruises down his arms. There was no hardness in his eyes behind his smiles and easy manners, hiding a troubled past. Babs couldn't believe, though, that he was simply here for the joy of it. She wasn't a romantic. This was not a labour of love.

Right now - right now she wasn't wondering about his mysterious past. Right now she was watching as he gazed admiringly up at her from between her legs, and chewing her lip in impatience. Every time she came here, he drew it out a little longer - teasing her, testing her to see what she'd do. She never begged, of course. She'd hang on for as long as she possibly could and then she'd _order_ him, and then he'd give her that amazing, sexy smile and lower his head and-

Oh God, he was good. _This_ was good. It wasn't often that Babs was at a loss for words but when he carefully, firmly parted her nether lips and slid his tongue over her clit she wasn't capable of doing much beyond making vowel sounds, and reaching down and clutching his short dark hair. And when she was just exactly at the point where she wished that he was actually inside her he _was_ , his fingers - one, two, sometimes even three - slipping into her with ease. That was the most frustrating part, not having the leverage to force herself against his hand, to be the person who was _doing_ the fucking, but it was so good, such heady relief, that as she shuddered and gasped the frustration disappeared.

She didn't stay long after they had finished. She never did - Babs wasn't one for bathing in the afterglow. Dick helped her to the little bathroom, where she could wash herself down with a cloth and towel, and helped her back into the room and fetched her chair before respectfully leaving her alone to get dressed. He was still hard when he left, Babs saw with a mixture of regret and amusement. She'd never liked PIV, not even back when she coudl still stand on her own two legs, but that didn't mean she didn't wonder what it would be like, with Dick. Just as she sometimes wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to taste herself on his lips, and tongue...

She made sure to chase any such thoughts out of her head before leaving. Theirs was a strictly professional relationship, and that was all it was ever going to be. Dick reappeared as she opened the door to the corridor, back in his bathrobe. "I hope I'll get to see you again soon," he said, as he did every time.

"You will," she promised, as she always did.

And then - unexpectedly - he replied, "I hope so. I always miss you when I don't see you for too long." Her surprise must have shown, because he hesitated for a moment, and then turned to the right, going down the corridor towards rooms Babs had never seen. She turned left, heading back to the receptionist's desk to pay. Best not to mention that bit to Dinah. She'd read all sorts of things into it that weren't really there.


End file.
